


Thank God it's Thursday

by greenJeanKirstein



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Content, and proko's grandmother!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 14:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10664154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenJeanKirstein/pseuds/greenJeanKirstein
Summary: Kavinsky and Prokopenko go see Prokopenko's grandmother, like they do every Thursday.





	Thank God it's Thursday

On Thursday Kavinsky picked Prokopenko up from school and pulled him into a quick kiss. “Ready to see Granny again?” he asked, revving the engine and driving off as quickly as possible, not waiting for Prokopenko to buckle up.

 

“It’s only been a week, K, I don’t miss her that much.” Prokopenko rolled his eyes, taking off his snapback and tossed it onto the dashboard instead of putting the seatbelt on. “Why are we even going to see her? Does she want anything? I’m not going to spend another hour lifting boxes with you, you let me do most of the work and you whine too much. Call Swan to do your dirty work.” He looked at his friend and then sighed, closing his eyes when Kavinsky’s only reply was pushing the gas pedal down some more.

 

About thirty minutes later the car stood next to a takeout window and Kavinsky was giving the server some money for his and Prokopenko’s lunch.

 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” he said to the guy, shoving a twenty dollar bill down the worker’s shirt and then tossed the brown bag with food to the passenger seat. Before the guy could react or say something, Kavinsky smirked and drove off.

 

“Unwrap my burger, will you?” Kavinsky held out his hand as he drove, taking as many shortcuts as he could. He had been waiting for this Thursday for a week and now that it was finally here, he was not going to waste more time.

 

Prokopenko took out the burger and unwrapped half of it, shoving the covered side into Kavinsky’s awaiting palm. “Granny’s not going to be happy if you don’t have lunch because you had that burger.”

 

Kavinsky snorted, taking a big bite out of his meal as if he didn’t care how some old lady would feel about him already having had lunch. “And she’ll be glad you stuffed your face with fast food?” He remarked, taking another bite and humming slightly as the salty taste of meat spread in his mouth.

 

Prokopenko took a bite from his own burger as well and finished his mouthful before speaking. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who has a problem with eating. Remember the last time you tried eating two meals in two hours?” The last time Kavinsky had eaten two meals in a short period of time, he had spent an entire evening in the bathroom, feeling sick and puking up everything he had eaten in the last day. Prokopenko usually did not talk about Kavinsky’s weaknesses, but when he did, he didn’t mention them to be mean. He was genuinely worried that Kavinsky would eat as much as possible to please the old woman, and would then spend his time in the bathroom, puking up his guts.

 

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s only a burger!” Kavinsky rolled his eyes, making quick work of the burger. He wasn’t going to admit that Prokopenko was right, even though he was. He was Joseph Kavinsky, the king of Henrietta’s streets, and if he wanted a burger, he could get a fucking burger without anyone bitching about it.

 

They drove in silence, which was the result of their mouths being too full to speak than from the topic of their conversation. Besides, it only took ten minutes - with Kavinsky behind the wheel - from the burger place to Prokopenko’s grandmother’s house. They didn’t have to speak for those few minutes.

 

Right before they pulled up to the little house, Prokopenko combed his fingers through his hair and buttoned his shirt up all the way. Kavinsky scoffed, but he, too, slid off his snapback and tried to make his hair less messy. Prokopenko’s grandmother knew that her beloved grandchild and all of his friends had tattoos and piercings, and she did not mind it, but Kavinsky still felt like the old woman was worthy of being showed the best side of Joseph Kavinsky.

 

He parked the car and then honked, smirking when Prokopenko flinched.

 

“You fucker,” Prokopenko mumbled, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. “You’ll give her a heart attack.”

 

Kavinsky laughed, and together they walked to the front door, which opened just as they were about to ring the bell.

 

“Semjon!” Prokopenko’s grandmother turned to her grandson first and gave him a tight hug, smiling into his shoulder. “And Joseph!” She hugged Kavinsky as well and he smiled, hugging her back. “I didn’t know you’d be coming! I did not make you any lunch! Oh, come in, come in, we’ll think of something!” she walked into the house and the boys followed her.

 

Kavinsky smiled and wrapped an arm around Prokopenko’s shoulders. “It’s alright, Gramma, Proko here missed you and we thought we’d come by. You don’t have to make us lunch, it’s chill.”

 

The old woman chuckled, apparently pleased by the answer and walked to the kitchen.

 

“You little liar.” Prokopenko whispered, elbowing Kavinsky in the ribs, but then smiled as well when his grandmother turned around and clapped her hands together. “I’ll think of something. Come on then, tell me how you have been,”

 

She opened the fridge and took out some ingredients Kavinsky couldn’t even name, then gestured for the boys to sit down at the table while she made them some lunch. She happily peeled the potatoes and diced them, chopped up some other vegetables and fried them while making a sauce and listening to Kavinsky and Prokopenko talk.

 

“It’s been just as usual,” Prokopenko said as he shrugged, fidgeting with his fingers over the table. “The lessons are alright, I suppose, and we’ve been revising for our exams.” he shrugged again, turning to face Kavinsky and giving him the permission to continue speaking. Kavinsky winked and then looked at the cooking woman. “Proko’s being modest. He got an A in our last math test, like, he’s secretly a genius, he’s not giving himself full credit.” He grunted when Prokopenko hit him under the table, but continued speaking. “Jiang got an A too, but he’s got like this nerd tutoring him, so that’s not fair.”

 

Prokopenko’s grandmother smiled and waved a wooden spatula at him. “Don’t be rude, Joseph, it’s good your friend is getting tutoring. Did you do well too?” she stirred the sauce again and then got some onto the spatula, holding her palm under it as she walked to the table to let Kavinsky taste it. “More salt?”

 

Kavinsky blew onto the steaming sauce and then tasted it, humming. “Nah, tastes good. And I got a B, but I didn’t cheat this time.” Again, he tried to ignore the kick Prokopenko gave him under the table, grinning widely as his hair was ruffled.

 

“That is very good!” Prokopenko’s grandmother praised Kavinsky and returned to the stove. “You’re a smart young man, Joseph, just a little lazy. Could you two set the table? The food is almost ready.”

 

\---

 

“Thank you for the food, Gramma.” Prokopenko said after they had finished eating and bent down, kissing his grandmother’s cheek. “We’ll do the dishes. You should get ready for your Bingo night.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll take care of ‘em.” Kavinsky saluted and kissed her cheek as well, grabbing a towel and smacking Prokopenko’s ass with it when Prokopenko’s grandmother looked away. The old woman got up and smiled, shaking her head. “Fine, fine. You young folk, always in a hurry to get the old out of the way.” She didn’t sound upset though and made her way upstairs to get ready for her weekly Bingo night.

 

Right after only him and Prokopenko were left in the kitchen, Kavinsky’s smile dropped and he put a hand over his stomach. “I’m gonna be sick.” he said and Prokopenko sighed, gesturing to the bathroom with his head. “Go throw up. I’ll do the dishes and then bring you some water and pills, yeah?”

 

Kavinsky nodded and went to the bathroom, throwing up half of his lunch before his body realised that it wasn’t being threatened with the homemade meal. He still felt like shit and sat on the floor until Prokopenko brought him some water with the pills that soothed his stomach.

 

“You okay?” Prokopenko asked, standing next to him and gently brushing his hair out of his face. Kavinsky nodded, taking deep breaths and waiting for the pill to kick in.

 

“Wanna go lie down? I’ll tell Granny you’re tired. She’ll understand.”

 

Kavinsky nodded again and let Prokopenko help him up. He knew where Prokopenko’s old room was so he didn’t need any help getting there. The room was still on the smaller side and still had pictures of a small Proko running around and being interested in different animals - the pictures had been taken when Prokopenko’s grandfather had taken him to a farm nearby and it was the only memory Prokopenko had from his grandfather. It had been the only memory of his grandfather even before he was given a new life and a new set of memories. Kavinsky touched one of the pictures, snorting at the image of Prokopenko holding a little bunny rabbit up and showing it to the camera. What a cute child Prokopenko had been…

 

What Kavinsky liked more than the cute pictures of small Proko, however, was the soft bed with cute flowery sheets and fluffy pillows. He almost fell onto the bed and let out a content sigh, curling up and waiting. As usually, Prokopenko would finish the chores as he promised, and then join him.

 

Ten minutes later Prokopenko lay down next to Kavinsky and nudged him gently. “Did the pill work?” he asked and Kavinsky nodded, tracing a hand up Proko’s arm and down his chest. “Did Granny leave yet?” he answered the question with a question and Prokopenko snorted, a smile appearing on his face.

 

“She did, but she was worried about you - thought that you’ve gotten the cold. Granny wanted to stay home and take care of you. Don’t worry, I told her you’re fine.”

 

Kavinsky’s smile turned into a smirk and he rolled onto Prokopenko, slowly grinding his hips into him. “Great, ‘cus I’ve been waiting for this for a week. I’m gonna fuck you so well that you’ll think of my dick the whole day in school tomorrow.”

 

Prokopenko laughed, but moved his hips as well, gladly grinding against Kavinsky. He put his hands onto Kavinsky’s slender hips and pushed the shirt up enough so that he could skim his thumbs over the smooth pale skin. Kavinsky hummed, but then cupped Prokopenko’s chin with one hand and looked down at him. “We’re gonna try something new today.” he smirked, bending down for a quick, bruising kiss, starting to undo the buttons of Prokopenko’s shirt then. Prokopenko helped him with the buttons and together they got the shirt off without breaking the shirt or tearing any buttons.

 

“Fuck, you still have some of these,” Kavinsky pressed his thumbs into two of the few barely there hickeys that still remained on Prokopenko’s chest and collarbones. He was so proud - it had been him who gave Prokopenko’s pale skin more colour, more life. Prokopenko groaned softly, both loving the possessive streak Kavinsky showed and disliking the way Kavinsky’s nails almost dug into his skin. His groans got louder when Kavinsky pressed down on an almost faded hickey and kissed the other side of his neck, first only massaging the skin with his lips, then using his teeth to break it, sucking a violently red mark onto his boy’s soft skin.

 

“Fuckin’ beautiful, you fuck.” Kavinsky mumbled, lips still pressed against his neck, and before Prokopenko could reply, shoved down his jeans and grasped Prokopenko’s dick through his underwear. Prokopenko moaned, arching into Kavinsky’s touch, “Ah, God, K,”

 

Kavinsky smirked, glad that Prokopenko had said the name of the Lord, because he was Prokopenko’s creator. He was the only God that mattered while they were laying down in a bed, bare as the day they were born. He was the only God that mattered while his mouth was slick against Prokopenko’s creamy skin. And just like deities, he, too, wanted to be worshipped by his most devoted followers.

 

There was nobody who could worship him better than Prokopenko. Nobody else knew how to please Kavinsky with words or with touches or simply with their presence. Prokopenko truly was a gift to his deity and this time his God had a gift for him as well.

 

Kavinsky massaged Prokopenko’s dick through the fabric of his pants and continued sucking hickeys onto his neck and collarbones, stopping only when Prokopenko’s moans turned to whimpers as his dick turned harder and harder, and when he could feel his palm getting moist from Prokopenko’s arousal that seeped through the thin cotton material, he pulled his hand away.

 

“K, please,” Prokopenko gasped and Kavinsky sat up on the bed, pulling Prokopenko’s jeans off, tossing them onto the floor. He then did the same with Prokopenko’s underwear and just eyed him, reaching out to trace a lone finger up one of Prokopenko’s freckled thighs. Prokopenko’s thighs shivered and he parted them, pushing his hips up to allow Kavinsky to see all of him.

 

“Patience!” Kavinsky’s order was harsh and sounded like a command for a dog, but Prokopenko obeyed, not moving an inch. He simply looked up at Kavinsky, being pinched on the tender skin of his inner thigh as a reward for good behaviour. “Good boy.”

 

A firm hand wrapped around his cock and Prokopenko’s body shivered in pleasure, his mouth open in a silent gasp. His freckled skin looked beautiful on the flowery sheets and his golden hair was like a halo around his head, fanned out on the white pillow, little pink ribbons attached to the pillow almost touching Prokopenko’s hair. The sight was so pure and beautiful that Kavinsky wanted to gag. Instead he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against the leaking slit of Prokopenko’s dick.

 

Prokopenko put one of his hands into Kavinsky’s hair, tugging on it, not even sure if he wanted Kavinsky to stop or to take all of him into his warm and wet mouth. He reached for the little end table besides the bed with his other hand and Kavinsky followed his movement as he opened his mouth, lickling away the salty precum that dribbled down Prokopenko’s cock.

 

“Lube,” Prokopenko gasped, his head falling onto the pink ribbons as Kavinsky’s tongue circled the sensitive foreskin and as his hand began stroking Prokopenko. “First drawer,”

 

Kavinsky laughed, his voice vibrating against Prokopenko’s dick, and he pinched Prokopenko’s inner thighs again. He found it beautiful how Prokopenko writhed on the bed after only a few simple touches, and he found power in knowing he had been the one to make him moan. After a few more licks, a few more strokes and one well timed suck with his mouth around the crown of Prokopenko’s dick, Kavinsky pulled away and opened the first drawer of the end table. He arched a brow and lifted a few papers from the drawer, eyeing them for long enough to see a happy man encouraging people to find faith.

 

“Proko, really?” he snorted, picking up the half empty bottle of lube and the opened condom package. “You fuck guys often while you’re visiting Granny-dearest?”

 

Prokopenko’s cheeks flushed red, but he did not hide his face, simply brushed some hair away from his eyes. “These have been here since Skov and Swan were over. I just… stashed these? Just in case…” He watched as Kavinsky poured lube onto his fingers and spread his legs for the cold digits that entered his body.

 

“Glad you did, Proko, good boy,” Kavinsky praised him with a kiss on the lips as two of his fingers stretched Prokopenko quickly, moving in and out in a pace that was enough to make Prokopenko moan and push back onto them, but not too fast that he’d get to come. The two of them had done this enough that when Prokopenko whined into the kiss, Kavinsky knew how to curl his fingers and where to rub to get Prokopenko’s toes to curl and for him to gasp loudly.

 

Kavinsky added a third finger, sucking a hickey onto Prokopenko’s neck. The skin bloomed under his teeth and when Kavinsky looked at the rest of Prokopenko, his skin was flushed from the pleasure. A flushed, hard, moaning Prokopenko, rocking back and forth on his fingers was one of Kavinsky’s favourite sights.

 

“Look at you, fuck,” Kavinsky wiped his hand clean onto his white tank top and then tugged it off. “All pretty and pink for me.” He unbuttoned his jeans and when he got back to the bed, gestured for Prokopenko to sit up. Prokopenko did as he was gestured to and smiled when Kavinsky straddled his chest.

 

“Come on, Proko, I can’t fuck you if you don’t make me hard.” Kavinsky said with a teasing smile, grasping his already hard cock and pressing it against Prokopenko’s awaiting lips. He groaned when Prokopenko obediently parted his lips and took him into his mouth, then cursed when Prokopenko didn’t stop until he was deep throating Kavinsky. Kavinsky bucked his hips, raising his hand slightly to rest it on top of Prokopenko’s hair and tugged on the light blond strands. He wanted Prokopenko to swallow, he wanted him to bob his head, wanted him to do whatever it was that Prokopenko always did with his tongue.

 

There was no need for words - as soon as Kavinsky tugged on his hair, Prokopenko went to work, doing everything he could to pull moans, curses and groans from Kavinsky. The whole time he sucked, licked and hummed, his eyes did not leave Kavinsky’s face and Kavinsky gently caressed the side of Prokopenko’s face with a thumb. “So good,” he mumbled and Prokopenko closed his eyes for a few seconds, moaning at the praise.

 

Kavinsky thrust into Prokopenko’s mouth a few more times, then held Prokopenko’s head in place, fully sliding into his mouth. The warm and wet mouth was amazing, but the feeling of Proko’s throat contracting around his cock was even better and Kavinsky grunted. He did not pull his hips away and after hearing a soft whine from Prokopenko, he looked down, seeing how Prokopenko’s eyes began to water as he swallowed around the dick in his mouth, his body trying to get the air it needed. “Come on, breathe through your nose,” Kavinsky instructed, pulling away just a tiny bit, but still leaving his cock in Prokopenko’s mouth.

 

Doing as he was told, Prokopenko looked from Kavinsky’s face to his chest and then to his stomach, which made Kavinsky chuckle and he pulled away, ruffling Prokopenko’s hair. “Fuck, you sure know how to suck dick.” Prokopenko’s cheeks flushed, but he accepted a kiss he got from Kavinsky, letting Kavinsky nudge him back onto the bed. He spread his legs again, looking perfectly content and even adorable as he lay like that, a small smile on his pink lips, eyes fixed on Kavinsky. Kavinsky ruffled his hair, smiling back to him as he tossed Prokopenko a condom.

 

Prokopenko snorted, almost as if wanting to scold and tease Kavinsky. Instead he rolled the condom onto Kavinsky’s dick, putting his hands back onto the bed then. “Go on then,” he said, tilting his head a bit, “I thought you wanted to try something new? It’s really getting old…”

 

Kavinsky smirked, but did not reveal his ideas yet, instead he slid into Prokopenko’s awaiting body and built up a quick, almost unrelenting rhythm. He waited until Prokopenko was a gasping, moaning mess of a body under him and then put his hand onto Prokopenko’s neck, pushing down his thumb as hard as possible to cut off most of the blood circulation. Prokpenko’s hips bucked and Kavinsky smirked, pressing his thumb down more, enough to leave bruises onto Prokopenko’s neck. “You like it. Fucking kinky bastard, Proko.”

 

Prokopenko could only open his mouth and moan weakly as Kavinsky fucked him in fast and deep thrusts. His body was lost in pleasure, he was bucking his hips and gasping; until suddenly there was too much pressure on his neck and he couldn’t breathe. He grabbed onto Kavinsky’s hand, trying to pull it away from his throat, groaning when Kavinsky looked down at him.

 

“Harder?” Kavinsky asked, still thrusting into him, but his movements slowed as Prokopenko’s face turned white and when Prokopenko’s groan was full of pain, he stopped fully, taking his hands away from Prokopenko’s neck. “Shit,” he mumbled, helping Prokopenko sit up. Prokopenko coughed, trying to speak and Kavinsky gently rubbed his back, obviously worried. “Can you breathe okay? Should I call 911?”

 

Prokopenko coughed a few times more, shaking his head. He was fine, it was fine and Kavinsky hadn’t know he was being too rough. His voice sounded weak when he said, “I’m okay. I just need a glass of water.” He did his best to smile and leaned into a little kiss, wincing when he swallowed.

 

“I’ll get you some water,” Kavinsky promised and grabbed his jeans from the floor, pulling them on as he ran to the kitchen to get Prokopenko a glass of water. He felt a bit guilty, but Proko would pull through, Kavinsky knew that he would be okay. A few days of cough was not a huge deal anyway.

 

He brought Prokopenko the glass of water and stroked his hair as Prokopenko drank it. While he had been downstairs, Prokopenko had pulled on his underwear and his shirt. He was still looking a bit shaky, but he smiled, mumbling a thank you and leaned against Kavinsky. It was quiet for a while and then Kavinsky coughed. “So, uh, no sex?”

 

Prokopenko shook his head and climbed under the blanket, gesturing for Kavinsky to join him. Kavinsky rolled his eyes, but did as he was expected to do, wrapping an arm around Prokopenko’s middle, pulling him close. He didn’t mind cuddling and didn’t mind not having sex. Prokopenko’s well-being was much more important than sex. Maybe he cared enough about Prokopenko to just enjoy being with him.

 

A soft hum came from Proko’s mouth and he moved slightly, placing his head and his hand on Kavinsky’s chest. He yawned, closing his eyes and circled a patch of Kavinsky’s skin. “Thank you,” Prokopenko mumbled, his voice soft and filled with sleep. When Kavinsky looked down at him, he was already asleep, pink lips slightly open, his thumb almost touching the bottom lip. Prokopenko was the most beautiful creature Kavinsky had ever seen. He truly was an angel with his light hair and his skin that flushed beautifully under Kavinsky’s touch, with his plump lips that he bit way too often to be considered decent, and his soft hands that always offered comfort and love.

 

Kavinsky had never felt this loved before. He pressed a quick kiss onto Prokopenko’s forehead and then slid out of bed, cleaning up the slight mess their tryst had left behind. Even if Prokopenko’s grandmother knew they were sleeping together, Kavinsky didn’t want to shock the poor woman with actual evidence. After making sure everything looked proper, he snuck downstairs and ate some leftovers from the lunch. There was an unopened bottle of wine in the fridge and after thinking for a while, he cracked it open, pouring himself a glass.

 

The next few hours went by in a blur - Kavinsky sat on the couch and watched TV, drinking a glass of wine and then another three, feeling like a fancy grown up that drank fancy wine after work. He was still swirling the last of the wine around in his glass when Prokopenko’s grandmother came home.

 

“Hey, gramma!” Kavinsky waved to the old woman and she waved back, arching a brow at the wine glass. He just shrugged, downing the last of it. “All gone. Sorry. I’ll buy you a new bottle,”

 

She sighed, shaking her head and went to him, picking the wine glass from his hand. “It’s alright, Joseph. Where’s Semjon?” She went to the kitchen and rinsed the glass in the sink.

 

Kavinsky turned down the volume of the TV and when nothing interesting happened on the screen, closed the TV. “He’s upstairs, asleep. He hasn’t gotten much sleep lately, school’s stressing him out.” Prokopenko really hadn’t been getting enough sleep, but the fault didn’t lay in school stress as much as him staying up late to drink or smoke weed with Kavinsky and the rest of the pack.

 

“You should get some sleep as well, Joseph.” Prokopenko’s grandmother said as she walked through the living room on her way upstairs. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

 

“I won’t, Gramma,” He promised, looking at her and smiled. “Sleep well!”

 

“You too, Joseph.”

 

Kavinsky sat in the quiet living room for a couple of minutes and then groaned, feeling the wine turn his body sluggish. He got up and walked upstairs, undressing on his way to Prokopenko’s room. The blond boy was still asleep, a hand tucked under his cheek, face calm and quiet as some strands of his soft hair moved every time he breathed out. Kavinsky lay down next to Prokopenko and after a second of hesitation, put his arm over Prokopenko’s waist and curled around him. Prokopenko hummed in his sleep, but it seemed that Kavinsky’s touch hadn’t upset or woken him; it had soothed him and offered him comfort. Kavinsky closed his eyes and inched closer until he could feel Prokopenko’s back against his chest. It felt just as nice as it had felt the first time they had slept together and soon Kavinsky drifted off, mind full of pale freckled skin and blond hair.

 

The next morning they were woken up by a knock on the door. Kavinsky’s legs were entwined with Prokopenko’s and Prokopenko’s cheek was pressed against his chest. Prokopenko groaned and covered his eyes with a hand, trying to snuggle closer, obviously opposed to the idea of getting up. Kavinsky found his mannerisms cute and just chuckled, hugging him for a second before calling out, “We’re up, Gramma! You can come in!”

 

Prokopenko groaned even louder and pressed his whole face into Kavinsky’s chest, gently kissing the skin. He didn’t pay attention to his grandmother and Kavinsky rolled his eyes, smiling widely.

 

“Sorry, Gramma, Proko’s sleepy.” Kavinsky said, ruffling Prokopenko’s hair. The old woman chuckled, but showed the boys a huge tray with pancakes and coffee on it. “It’s time to get up,” she said, setting the tray down on the table, opening a jar of jam for them. “I made you pancakes and I brought you some apple jam. I know you both like it,” she straightened up and smoothed down her blouse. “Eat and then go to school. Don’t be late, okay?”

 

Prokopenko peeked up from Kavinsky’s chest, face still sleepy, eyes half closed, and nodded. “We won’t be late. Thanks, Gramma.” Even though what he had said implied he was going to get up, he stayed in Kavinsky’s embrace until his grandmother left the room and then slowly wiggled away. “Ugh, school,”

 

Kavinsky watched Prokopenko pull on the same clothes he had worn the day before and he smirked, reaching for his own pants. “We could skip, you know. Could get high and just relax home.”

 

“Nah,” Prokopenko tugged his shirt over his head and slapped some jam onto a pancake, rolling it up with his nimble fingers and then ate it. “We’ve got homework in Chemistry. I hope you are done with yours because you know you’ll fail if you miss too many due dates.”

 

Kavinsky watched Prokopenko eat another pancake and then grabbed one too, starting to tug Prokopenko out of the room. “We’re going to school. You’re driving.  I’m... I’m going to do homework.”

 

Prokopenko laughed, but they both waved goodbye to his grandmother, who wished them a good day in school. As soon as they got into the car, Kavinsky began scribbling something into his Chemistry textbook and Prokopenko let the engine purr under his touch, driving them to school. It wasn’t a long ride, but Kavinsky still managed to finish his homework. He looked almost tired as Prokopenko pulled to the school parking lot and then turned to his friend, smiling. “TGIF?”

 

“Thank God it’s Friday,” Prokopenko agreed and stepped out into the open. Even if it was the end of school week, he could barely wait for the next Thursday.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @softproko


End file.
